


Keep on, Keep On

by JenCforCarolina



Series: Soldier Keep On [9]
Category: Destiny (Video Game)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2018-10-29 00:10:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 6,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10842378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JenCforCarolina/pseuds/JenCforCarolina
Summary: There's a Titan with a needle and thread to stitch up hearts, and a Warlock who's certain her metal doesn't house one. On occasion their Hunter blinks her bright eyes and sings of starlight.On a floor below them is a Titan with wings who has begun again one more times than most, a Warlock who loves the sun and the Hunter who loves her.A dozen blocks out an ancient man with just the faintest of silver to his hair sits to dinner with a family, and distantly a curious robot tends to their flock.Lives are complicated, children. Keep moving.





	1. Her Titans

**Author's Note:**

> Year 2 and later Destiny drabbles and prompt fill collection. Featuring OCs, other characters. Because all the cool kids are doing it.

In Eyahn’s mind they were two different people, and it never occurred to her how similar they were. When she paused to think, there was actually not much about them she could find that was different. They smiled big, smiled wide, entirely unabashed. They wore their emotions in the aura about them and cared not who saw. Their armor made them look strong, made them look safe. Lini had been grey like charcoal, Auburn was grey like tarnished silver. They wore the same helm, visor spattered with rhythmic purple dots. They had similar laughs, similar posture, similar defend by attacking strategy, similar I-will-fight-for-you-to-the-death attitude. Eyahn had heard both of them say “fight me” on multiple accounts, in situations where fighting was an overreaction and highly unnecessary.

Yet somehow they were still so separate. Maybe it was that particular octave Auburn’s voice hit when she was truly laughing, uncontrollably. Maybe it was the attitude Lini had, how flirty she was with literally every female-identifying being they came across. She had jokingly cooed at a Hive Wizard once before slapping a grenade to it’s face and giggling “Call me.”

Maybe it was the decades that had passed since the Gap.

Maybe it was the little fear in herself, the terror tightly bound that told her she could not love Auburn and Selene like she had loved Lini and Seph, lest she lose them too.

But somehow she couldn’t stop herself. Maybe it would be okay.


	2. Lost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Two characters are lost in the woods, and all they have is a tarp and whatever stuff they usually carry. What happens?

“So you mean we’re lost?” Selene snapped.

“I mean I don’t have geographical data for this particular sector. All I can tell you is head north. I have nothing else to offer.” Her Ghost whirred planting itself deftly in front of her face.

“Can’t even send a transmission, useless bucket of bolts?”

“The rain as you well know, interferes with long range transmissions. I could cut through it if I had the ship’s transmitter, the one you so brilliantly wrecked. Actually, if you hadn’t crashed us, I could transmat you out right now.”

“We were shot down by a Skiff. You’re lucky, actually, I managed to crash into it and take it down with us, else there would be Fallen on our tail.”

“They will be anyway because there is no way they won’t notice you literally crashed one of their ships.”

“I still consider it an achievement.” Selene plopped down in a huff, splashing into the beginnings of a puddle. The rain pattered depressingly off her cloak, drops ringing against the metal of her helm.

“Oh, you would.” Her Ghost chided in annoyance. But its Guardian ended the conversation, neglecting to respond. Its parts sank. It shifted its gaze around, at the forest, the cloudy sky, the smoldering wreckage of two ships. Drifting over, its attention was caught onto a scrap of canvas, mostly untouched by flames. It scanned and dematerialized it, drifting back over to its Guardian. Selene watched it drift a few feet above her into the low branches of a tree. There, it rematerialized the cloth, which succumbed to gravity and fell, draping across a cluster of branches. The rain, suddenly, fell around Selene, not on her. She scooted back to sit on a rock, so only her boots remained in the puddle.

“Thanks.” She said grudgingly. Coach drifted down to rest on her knee.

“We’ll be fine.” It said. “Once the rain clears we’ll call for an extraction. Amanda owes you glimmer over that race anyway, I’m sure it’s enough for a down payment on a new ship.”

“Thanks.” She said again, more forcefully. Coach huffed a little sigh.

“Fine. You’re welcome.”


	3. Promises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this was an ask reply? But an eloquent one. I want to remember it.

Eyahn doesn’t promise lightly. She’s had a lot of times when someone promised her something and they were unable to fulfill it. Promises like “I will always be here,” and “I’ll see you soon.”

If you ask her to promise something and get a nod it’s an acknowledgement, and she will do it to the best of her power, knowing that things sometimes get in the way. Things like death. If she speaks the words, says explicitly “I promise,” it is always earnest, always heartfelt and she will do everything in her power to keep that promise, and if it is a secret she will carry it to her last death.

She has made only a handful of these. One, to Lini, her old teammate. She has never told a soul that the Titan was a Sunbreaker. Even today, with the Forge open to any, and with Lini’s spirit in the Gjallarhorn on her back. She bears the secret alone.

Two, to Auburn, late at night in the Cosmodrome, high in their nest in the rafters of an old garage. Should anything happen, protect Selene, keep her safe and on a good path. A promise easily given and solemnly stated. For a moment the Titan and Hunter were less auntie and child, more sisters. Then Eyahn fell asleep, woke up in safe arms, and it was like nothing had changed.


	4. Pacifist

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The timeline is a bit inaccurate, but the argument is iconic for the two of them.

“You absolutely cannot be serious.”

“Oh I completely can.”

The Ghost sped off to the side of the room, came close to smashing itself against the wall, and sped back across. “A pacifist Guardian. I raised a pacifist.”

“Conscientious objector.”

“Pacifist!”

“See, now you’re putting words in my mouth.”

“Oh, really?” It turned on him angrily. “Well then by all means, explain for me.”  
He sighed, as though he had been extremely patient and then run out of it. In reality he was far from patient, actually quite impatient for this conversation to be over. “I won’t kill for no reason. I have no idea where I am, what is going on, what kind of a country this is. Frankly, I don’t yet care about anything here. And I’m not going to kill for nothing. I will, of course, defend myself should such a thing be necessary.”

“You are in the Guardian’s tower, in the last city on Earth. This is the very last remnant of your species and you refuse to defend it?”

“Why do you care so much then little thing? This is my species, like you said. Not yours. Why do you care for it?”

“My job as a Ghost is to revive you and keep you alive. Advise you on courses of action and manage your arsenal, transmissions, and all electronic stuff too above your human brain. You get to do the defending.”

“So I make the final decisions on how I go about my life? And if I spend that life studying then that is my choice?”

The Ghost deflated, settled down to hover at shoulder level in front of him. “Yes. I suppose it is.”

“Good. Glad we agree. And with that settled…” He walked to the door of his small room, no belongings but a bed. “Show me the nearest library, if you’re able.”

“The Warlock archives will be best suited to your needs.”

He nodded “We’ll go with that then, thanks.”

“My pleasure.” It droned, still sore over losing the argument.


	5. Late Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Which character would stay up late and which would make them sleep.

“What are you doing?”

Iona caught herself, separated from the rhythm of the punches. Set her feet shoulder width and braced an arm to catch the back swing of the bag. The impact shook her, she was too tired to remember to roll with it. She half expected to slip on her own sweat.

It didn’t stop her from looking over her shoulder at Delah, with an expression of complete exhausted indifference.

The Exo’s faceplate structure did not allow her to raise her eyebrows. To overcompensate, she showed exasperation by giving her head a sharp thrust forward and clacking her jaw. Which she did now, while punctuating her stance with balled fists on her hips.

“You were patrolling _all day_.” She whirred. “And now you come down here to do _this_?”

Iona gave the punching bag a nearly apologetic glance. “What else?”

“I don’t know! Sleep!” Delah received the carefully pinched frown with an open jawed hiss. “Don’t give me that! I know you don’t _have_ to but people _do_ Iona, they _do_.”

“Was cold.” She murmured.

“Sorry?”

“I was cold.” She repeated, louder, nodded at the punching bag. “So I came down to exercise.”

Delah tilted her head like a wilting plant. It took some of her shoulder down with it. “Cold?!”

Iona shrugged. “It happens on Mars. Temperature permeates, you grow used to it.”

“You’re a _Sunbreaker_.” Delah marveled. Iona shrugged again. “Nevermind that, nevermind any of that, I am a _Sunsinger_. An _Exo Sunsinger_. I am the nearest thing to a goddamn space heater this tower has.”

She stormed to the bench and scooped up the towel Iona had left there, tossing it at the Titan, who still had enough energy left to catch it before it hit her face. “Cold… of course you’re cold, wearing _that_.” Delah gestured at the sports bra and undersuit, stripped to the waist. She wrapped the towel around her shoulders and neglected to protest.

“Let’s go!” Delah waved furiously. “Get some actual clothes on and then I’m going to sit on you until you fall asleep.”

“I would rather you did not.” Iona protested, but came along anyway. Delah latched herself onto the Awoken’s arm.

“Won’t have to if you go peaceful.” She snapped, whirring fiercely. She was warm, it was beginning to chase away the chill.

Iona relented.


	6. Apple Picking

The little Hunter scurried up the trunk, scrambling into the lowest branches of the tree. They forked nicely enough for climbing, but as they grew out from the trunk grew thinner and weaker. Eyahn shimmied out one, as far as she could, and stretched one hand to close around a red fruit. She gave it a solid yank, and another, before it popped from the branch. Clamping her legs tighter, she looked around with something to do with it, she needed both hands to climb further.

“Hand it here.” Auburn reached up from below her. The Titan was tall, but just a few inches short of the lowest branches of these trees. Her helmet was in her hands, upturned like a basket. Receiving the apple from Eyahn, she dropped it inside.

“I think I have a better idea sweetheart, come on down.” Eyhan glanced with some annoyance at the trunk she’d worked hard to climb, but relented and dropped her legs from the branch, dangling a few feet off the ground.

Auburn came to meet her, ducking low beneath the swinging legs. She rose up again between them, her free hand on Eyahn’s waist, helping balance her as she settled on the Titan’s back. “Atta girl. A little easier?”

Eyahn murmured a pleased noise, sitting back on the handle protruding from the back of Auburn’s chestplate. Her knees clamped on the shoulders and her ankles found purchase on Auburn’s sides, and just for balance she griped the helmet seal around her Titan’s neck. The branches were just above her head now, by a few inches only. She reached up with ease and plucked another apple, a few leaves falling around them as the branch bounced. Auburn lifted her helmet basket up so Eyahn could place the apple inside herself.

“Left.” The little Awoken commanded, pointing to another nearby apple. Her mount chuckled and moved for her.

“Don’t get more than you can eat, now. Don’t want to waste.”

“I can eat the whole tree.” Eyahn insisted, lips still sticky from the first apple they had gotten, the one Auburn had jumped for and presented to her smaller friend. Eyahn had tasted the sweetness and demanded more. Her Titan had no reason to object, it was a quiet autumn day after all, no enemy presence in the area. No harm in a little bit of peace. And Auburn treasured the little girl’s joyful moments.


	7. Dress Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Homemade Festival of the Lost costumes!

“Well.” Auburn said. “There goes that idea.” She examined the mask in her hands -a somewhat lopsided but delicately made wolf mask- and glanced back down at the Hunter.

Eyahn looked up sheepishly from beneath her Iron Banner cloak, the wolf’s head settled on hers and almost fully hiding her eyes. “Sorry.” She murmured.

Auburn’s gaze softened completely. “You look wonderful. It’s a great costume. This was just a little project, didn’t even come out too well.”

Eyahn’s piercing eyes darted from Auburn’s face to the mask in her hands. “But you? You are not wolf as well?”

“I hadn’t made myself a festival costume, it was for you…” Auburn trailed off, understanding suddenly. “Oh, I could be, you know. I could be wolf as well.”

She pulled the mask on, tying the ribbons behind her head. She blinked through the mask’s eye holes, fingering one that was not as wide as the other and blocked her vision. Feeling it was balanced, she crouched down to meet Eyahn on her level. “We will both be wolves. Come on then.” Taking her hand, Auburn stood again and led her little wolf to the festival square.


	8. A Fight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ask meme reply with a friend's OC.

Auburn cut her end of the comms, pressing her back into the wall of the building. She could hear Maki yelling over the radio, and the rapid footsteps approaching her position. She steadied her breath and crouched, fist tight around her trick. She waited, waited, eyes glued to the corner of the shack, watching for her target to approach. But the footsteps had stopped. She bit her lip uneasily, the prey was alerted.

Then something hit her from behind, an impact straight to the skull, and laughter rung over the silent radio.

“You sneak!” Auburn squealed, pivoting and flinging her snowball with blinding force. But those _damn_ Hunters were so slick, and Maki fell into shadestep a heartbeat before the snow left Auburn’s palm. She didn’t wait to follow its arc, but scooped up two fistfuls and ran forward, squeezing them into rough balls on the way. She burst through a bush she’d _hoped_ would provide a little cover, and hurled both snowballs at the reappearing form of her hunter friend.

One skipped past, exploding on the ground, but the other hit square in Maki’s chest. The lucky shot was enough to startle the Hunter, and Auburn maintained her momentum, slamming into Maki. She wrapped her arms around her smaller friend in a huge bear hug and allowed them to both topple over into a snowbank, laughing at the shouted protests.

“You can’t hit me if you can’t make a snowball!” She cried, giggling. Eventually, she released Maki, and submitted to an assault of snow, grinning beneath her helmet the whole time. So worth it.


	9. Iron, Twice Wrought

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My Titan has the unfortunate appearance of something quite similar to Lady Jolder and it made me a bit emotional about this campaign. These are personal ideas that I can’t seem to draw fics from at the moment, and simply wanted to archive by posting.

The mangled, puppeted bodies disappeared, up into the dark. The battleaxe clanged to the floor at her feet and a ghastly woman’s voice floated from above them.

With realization came dread, and she shouted: “Ghost cut the comms! Cut them now!”

A cry from the other end. “Guardian-!”

She screamed again. “Close telemetry!” Then quieter, sobs rising in her throat. “He doesn’t need to see this.”

She gripped the axe and alighted with flames.

* * *

He calls her ‘young wolf’ and there was a shock of surprise, a shudder of honor. She bows her head out of respect and there may have been a tear.

* * *

Sometimes she sits, cross legged and meditating. Sometimes she is on one knee, or both. Sometimes she just stands. Always head bowed. Always before Jolder.

She never sleeps.

* * *

One day she takes down her bun and cuts her auburn hair and asks her Ghost to keep it. This is permanent, it cannot grow again while dying and resetting weekly, daily. She learns to line her eyes and stand taller.

She learns to wield the sword.


	10. Perhaps a Premonition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obligatory Destiny 2 reveal denialfic.

_Gasp breath, jolt up, clutch sheet, blink twice._

Waking up before dawn was common enough that Auburn knew how to deal with it. Still rare enough to be a surprise.

“Nightmare?” Selene asked from the corner. Always did. Every night it happened her voice grew a little kinder, less annoyed. A comforting shift.

“Yeah.” Auburn said. But the panic did not cease. She sat numbly, brain too tired, too terrified to begin coping. Selene’s lights blinked and she rose, climbed onto the bed and shouldered her way into Auburn’s space. Metal cold on human skin. The Exo twisted one of Auburn’s shaking hands palm up, spread the fingers and moved her thumb from the wrist. No bloody mark on her palm, the tattoo present on the wrist. New life, it meant to her, the little swooping line, linked infinitely.

“See? Safe.” Selene murmured. Every night before it would have been soothing. But the lie brought bile to Auburn’s throat.

“No.” She whispered, her voice rushing, close to panic. “This was different. It wasn’t about me, or him or…”

Selene stayed silent, lights flickering worry, some annoyance now.

“I saw us burning.” She croaked. The wet lines on her face felt fresh flow. “Everyone. The whole   
City.”

“The Tower is safe.” Selene protested. “It’s what you’ve always told me.”

“And what if I’m wrong?”

“You’re never wrong.”

Auburn raised her head, neglected to move the bangs from her eyes. It painted her like a wraith, a pale face seen through strings of matted hair. Her stare was hollow and Selene had the foresight to shut her throat lights off completely before they had any chance of betraying her own sudden unease.

“Please don’t hold me to that.” The Titan pleaded. Selene nodded curtly, pulling her gaze away, to every other part of the room. She put an awkward hand on Auburn’s far shoulder and drew up a fistful of quilt between them. She sat still as her mentor curled back down into her lap. The position looked like one Eyahn would prefer. She could still hear the tense breaths though, could tell Auburn hadn’t relaxed.

“Go back to sleep idiot. We’re safe. I’m here.” In reply, she received a snort and a sigh as muscles relaxed. And in the long minutes while her Titan drifted back to sleep, Selene wrapped up the uncertainty in her mind, compartmentalized it, and pushed it away.

The City was safe.


	11. Kittens, Part 1

The moment Auburn sets the tabby down it streaks behind Selene’s lounging form. The next moment, when the Exo turns her head to inspect it, it darts across the room to tuck behind some pipes.

“What.” Selene deadpans, more a statement than a question. Eyahn perks up from where she’s braced in the small windowframe of the building. She hops down with hardly a patter, and the other two kittens, calicos who had been respectfully following Auburn, trot towards her. One breaks off, appears to be attempting a flank, and she turns on her heels to keep them both in front of her. It sends her cape fluttering, and the sly cat lengthens it’s strides and makes a swinging leap for the fabric. Eyahn whisks it wordlessly out of the way, sweeping it up around her neck like a fat scarf. The attacker sits back on her haunches, tail flicking, as she watches the gold edged.

The other calico brushes past Eyahn’s leg, meowling, and makes for Selene. It bumps it’s head into the Warlock’s side, and scrambles up onto her lap. The Exo reaches a hand to catch it as it’s tiny claws lose purchase on her robes. It tries to nestle into the folds but the robes stay fastened, so instead it puts it’s paws on her chest and tries to climb up towards her head. Selene pries it off of her, gently, and sets it back down beside her. It resumes it’s attempts to find an easy way to scale her torso.

“Why.” Same tone, with a slight bubble of confusion in her lights. It draws the direct attention of the first calico, who abandons it’s staredown with Eyahn and trots to join it’s twin inspecting the warm pile of metal and cloth.

Auburn closes the door, settles down. Eyahn shrinks down onto all fours, peering at the tabby whose nose has poked out from the pipes across the room. They appear to mimic each other, low shoulders and bent arms.

“Survivors. Like us.” She says, as Eyahn outstretches a hand, gaining the trust of curious whiskers. Selene settles herself lower, from sitting to all but laying on her back. The calicos find the warmest part of her chest, closest to her core, and curl up, purring. Selene makes a rumbling noise in response, not unlike theirs. She appears to understand.


	12. Kittens, Part 2

“He’s friendly.”

Lorene turns her attention from husking corn to see Mack has abandoned his share in lieu of the cat.

“He wants food scraps.” She says dully, unamused.

“Oh certainly, but he’s happy to pay forward with affection it seems.” Mack helps the kitten up onto his lap, scratching around it’s shoulders the whole time. It squirms and snuggles on his knees, purring and snaking around his hands.

“Anything he gets comes from your portion.” Lorene warns, only half meaning it. A faint smile has graced her, as Mack is grinning himself, and his smiles tend to be infectious.

“Certainly, certainly.” He agrees with a chuckle. “Worthy payment for sure.”


	13. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Destiny 2 ahead.

The reunion of mentor and student goes like this.

Selene was in the wilds, felt a pricking in her throat and a pull in her head. Not unlike the sensation she got when searching for her Ghost among the rubble and wreckage of the City. She follows the pull of the Light.

She crests a hill in time to see a familiar stranger surrounded by dead Red Legion, wrenching a cleaver from a Gladiator. While the Titan swings for the jugular Selene levels her rocket and destroys the two others backing the beast up.

When the smoke clears the Titan looks up, with mismatched soot and blood-stained armor. But there’s a mark that looks the same, though torn and ripped and stitched back together. She stares for a handful of human heartbeats, then pulls off her helmet and shouts: “Well get your metal ass down here and say hello, punk!”

Selene huffs, strides and glides from the ledge, calling back: “Missed you too mom!”

Auburn bursts into tears.


	14. Ghost Fragment: Mercury 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _From the learnings of Sunbreaker Iona Asej, on the Vex powers of simulation_

Listen, this may save your life.

If you fall into a dream, do not lose your humanity. Be you a mother or a daughter -human or Exo, Awoken- do not lose sight. To be human is to be tenacious, unpredictable. They want to predict you, hide away from their eyes.

And there will be eyes. They will be red and unyielding. They may surround you, they may hide in the shadows. Preadyth said they were always there, but I saw none until the end. I believe him.

There will be a flower. I saw a flower. Pujari saw a flower. I, a Titan, speak literally. He, a Warlock, I cannot say. I do not know the appearance your flower will take. Look for your flower, pluck it. Kill it. This is your escape. They will tell you without words that your garden is sacred, that your garden should be protected and admired. Destroy it to anger them, and set yourself free.

Humans kill, humans destroy. History tells us so, though we wish not to believe it. Believe it, use it, this is your salvation.


	15. Duty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post-Towerfall snippit about Eyahn’s Towerfall shenanigans.

“Hunter.” Eyahn perked up, knowing there were only a couple other Warlocks in earshot. The call was for her. Cayde curled a finger, a subtle summons. She straightened her shoulders and approached.

He tilted his head and continued. “I wanted to talk about the reports you sent during the occupation. They didn’t go through for a while but the timestamps remained.” He was walking away from her and the rest of the hangar’s business as he spoke. She followed, the pair of them backing to a bit of a corner, the closest thing to privacy you could get around this new Tower.

“They were accurate.” She insisted. Even in chaos she had followed protocol, sent daily reports on the encrypted channel. She wasn’t supposed to get a response until her operation was done, had assumed that was the reason for the silence.

“No no, they are. I know, I read them.” Cayde assured her. “What I want to know is, why you thought it was necessary to do them? Like, the world went kabooosh.” He made a funny gesture with his hands, and an odd sound with his vocal processor, a bit like sandpaper on steel, but louder. “Just, why?”

She cast half a glance away from them, at the hangar. His antics had been ignored, this time. “It is our job.”

“I mean, yeah….” Cayde put a hand on the side of his head. “Yeah it is, but like, everything was crazy. No one would have faulted you for trying to take care of yourself, or protecting civilians. You weren’t expected to treat this like every other battle.”

“Shaxx did.”

“Right, okay.” Cayde’s throat was blinking in rapidfire confusion and a little irritation. “But that’s Shaxx, like, you’re not some kind of crazy tiger man.” Eyahn blinked back at him, unmoved and quiet. 

He tsked and reconsidered, folding his arms. “I mean… part of me wants to take that back, actually, seeing you tear through that big guy back that night. A personal thank you, for that, by the way.”

She remembered. When the Vanguard had stormed the City, Serac had dialed in on Cayde’s transmissions, and Selene’s location, and Eyahn had lept three stories into the back of a Colossus, dual wielding daggers of jagged metal scavenged from broken and charred scrap. She’d snarled as she raked both nasty chunks down it’s neck and back, rupturing helmet seals and fuel lines and piercing suit and muscle. 

Cayde finally broke the stare between them and steepled his fingers, placing them just under his mouth and peering at her over their height. “Okay, obviously you are not on my page so… let's try this. You tell me what was going through your head when the Red Legion attacked.”

Eyahn nodded, and spoke slowly and deliberately, hands clasped behind her back “As… us, our standing directive is to eliminate threats within the walls before they can harm the Consensus, Tower, and City. We failed. I did what I could to halt further harm. I apologize that it was not enough.”

“What? No, it was plenty. You did more than you had to. If we had medals for this I would give you a medal. We should have medals for this… I need to talk to Zavala, Shaxx…” He shook his head.

“Look kid, you tried to take on an army by yourself. That’s not going to be as simple as a normal mission, you can’t treat it like one. It’s going to take-” He broke off, glanced to the side, like Selene did when processing something. “Huh. Help. It’s gonna take help. It took help, and time.” He nodded to himself.

“What is next?” She piped up, broke his train of thought. He tilted his head at her, crossed his arms.

“No more ‘smiths work for a while, okay? You won’t hear from me. Go out, do whatever you like, play with that big ol Titan of yours that’s about to get conscripted into Dead Orbit.”

Eyahn glanced across the way. Serac stood dutifully where she’d left him, doing his best to ignore summons from Arach Jalal.

“Take your break.” Cayde startled her with a slap of a hand on her shoulder. “A month. Do whatever you like. Call me if you want some easy patrols, or talk to Hawthorne, I think she’ll like you. I’ll have more official business for you after that, I’m sure, once this faction rally raises some sour thoughts among the people.” He whirred in annoyance, changed the shoulder pat to a push on her back. “Go on, there’s not supposed to be rest for the wicked but I’m carving some out for you. Use it.”

She nodded her thanks, let her hood fall back down around her shoulders.

“You’re one of my best Hunters.” Cayde said seriously, lowering his voice. “I know you can assume that much, being a Shadowsmith for this long and all, and I know I say that to a lot of people but for you, it’s true. Glad we still have you with us.”

Eyahn felt a swell of pride, raised her chin. She swallowed her shyness and grasped Cayde’s hand to shake. “Thank you. I am happy to be here too.”


	16. Curiosity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Humans are fond of rituals. They were built but human hands, so they have rituals too.

“I still don’t understand why we’re here.” Sephirah says. She rotates curiously, trailing behind Aventurine. 

“It’s Mars day.” Aventurine says simply. Still stalling. He’s a little tired of explaining this every time there’s a new member of the flock. And they always ask him, curse of being the current oldest.

“But we’re going to Titan now that the archology is mostly clear, right? Looking for your partners there?”

Sephirah lost her Guardian to the Red War. She was less likely than the others to find one now. Guardians were one in a million. Lose yours, and you had to start searching again from the beginning. Sephirah would likely still be in the flock after Aventurine found his Guardian, someday. It would become her job to teach the new arrivals. So he sighed, and turned to explain.

“They’ve always come here, on this day, each year. There’s a little part of a pre-golden age machine, buried in the sand. They feed it a little power, and wait. And at some point, during the day, it chimes a little tune, and they whistle back, and that is it. That’s Mars day.”

Sephirah doesn’t understand. No one does at first. “But why?” She asks. “What purpose does it serve?”

“I dunno, it makes them feel better? It doesn’t matter, it’s only one day a year. It’s what we do.”

There is a chirp from ahead. The mother calls to their two lagging Ghosts, tilting their head curiously. This angle particularly reveals the gash in their throat, the severed vocal chords. Zenith and Umbra are at their flock mother’s shoulders, waiting, and Aventurine and Sephirah catch up as they stride down the sand dune. They crest the next hill, ducking under an outcropping. There’s a fraying tuft of fabric here, tied to a stake driven into the rock, flapping in the wind. 

There are parts of what must have been a machine once, broken solar panels and axles and messes of cables. Aventurine still doesn’t know what broke it. Maybe the Fallen got to it, and found it lacking. Aventurine sees Sephirah spin closer, inspect what once was, and find the name. Her chassis’ movement telegraphs her emotions, intrigue, then surprise, then understanding. She looks to their flock mother with a new sentimental gleam in her eye. Aventurine knows it well.

Curiosity kneels down, shifts away the sand that gathered in the place they know. They pull a couple cables from beneath their robes, jury-rigged and fused together with a bit of glimmer. Find the heart and mouth of the rover, and plug the cables in. Faint whirring of old machinery spooling up. It was built to last, this little thing. They settle back on their heels to wait, hands on their knees. This is the sort of time they really look like the Warlock they used to be, patient and resolute. The flock settles in to wait with them. 

Eventually, the singing starts, little chimes in a charming pattern. When it is done, the flock and their mother sing back, Sephirah joining in.

“What does it mean?” She asks Aventurine, after.

“No idea. It’s just what we do.”


	17. Allegiance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When there is loss there is confusion. There is recovery. Some recover fast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pre-Forsaken drabble, for Forsaken

Zavala stands in the hangar, leaning with shoulders slumped at the guardrail by the bay doors, watching the ships go out. Each of them takes a similar exit vector. He knows where they are going.

A few ships are conversely coming in, a Ceres Gallot catches his eye. He wonders where it comes from, what news it’s Guardian has heard.

Minutes later, the hunter arrives, little awoken Eyahn. She has the wilds in her eyes, fresh from a long patrol. But she snaps herself to the odd hunter attention -less formal than titans but more deliberately attentive than warlocks- and nods to him curtly. “What are your orders sir?”

He shakes his head. “Ikora is managing the expedition to the Reef. She is the one to receive orders from now.”

Eyahn scrunches her face in a frown. “No sir, I report to you now.”

Zavala turns slightly, curiosity piqued. “Under what reason?”

She blinks. “Ikora is handling external threats. I was in the wilds for five months. Cayde’s last directive: to take a break. Now I return to standing orders, and whatever missions you can give me to fulfill them.”

“And what would those be?”

She straightens her chest. “Defend the Consensus and the City from threats from within our walls. Fighting shadows from shadows.”

Zavala turns fully, nods. “I remember now. You’re a ‘smith.” 

She nods in confirmation.

“Very well. Thank you, Hunter.” It feels strange to say that, feels wrong to take command of one of Cayde’s. But it will have to be something he gets used to. “I will call on you the moment I need you.”

She is curt and resolute, snaps another nod and darts off, dark ragged cloak flapping.

He watches her go, hands falling to clasp behind his back, a familiar and comforting posture.


	18. Consequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zavala waits on the Tower Walk for her return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forsaken quasi-spoilers, and thoughts.

“You have forgotten how to struggle.” A revelation falls from Auburn’s lips, and she swallows tightly, fights back her own dismay as it wrestles with conviction.

Zavala’s face darkens, his voice falls low, and dismay starts winning. “What did you say?”

She sets her jaw and settles on conviction.

“You do not remember how to struggle like a newborn. You’ve had to learn other things to take care of all of us.” Auburn paces out the words, careful not to let any hang too long, but making sure she’s heard. “I am still young, I remember.”

“If you think for a moment I have forgotten...” Zavala is more dangerous than when she left. But she stays her course.

“You did not need it, so you learned something new. When I got here I felt so safe, so secure. The City could not be touched, you held our walls with your sheer force of will, I could feel it.” Some part of Auburn pleads with him, and he heeds her enough to flatten his mouth in a line and stare into her soul. 

It would do.

“Twelve years ago I woke up and I made a decision, then another, and another. I was lost and afraid, in a world I no longer understood. So I did not think ahead, I did what I had to in each moment, and trusted that if I survived the next, and the next, then I would make it out.”

She sweeps a hand across the city beneath them. “This isn’t the same as it was, the war changed it. And it’s been a long time since war touched your walls, hasn’t it? I’m sorry.” 

He almost seems to get angrier, and her heart leaps to her throat but the turn of his mouth and shake of his head leaves it softer than before. She carries on.

“You look so far ahead that you have forgotten that all you can do when you are vulnerable and small is make one decision after another, and another, and when the consequences come you deal with them in the same way, one by one, and you do the very best you can. Because that’s all you can do.” Her words fade in her mind, realizes anything more she could say is reiteration.

“Is that all?” He is expressionless now, composed. Auburn accepts defeat. His wall is too strong to break.

He takes in a breath of undiscernible emotion, and continues in an unreadable voice. “You are correct about some things. You are young, and do not understand the things I have come to understand.”

“Yes sir.” She autopilots.

“However. You are also right that I have...maintained a particular crisis strategy, and it may be wise to consider the merits of others, to incorporate them into a more comprehensive battleplan.” He trips on a word or two, a rarity from Zavala, and never when he is as unruffled as he is trying to appear.

Auburn’s face must show the flicker of relief as it lifts, because Zavala clears his throat puts on a stern mask again. “The consequences will still come, Guardian.”

She sets her jaw the same way. “I will meet them, sir.”

He nods and dismisses her with a tilt of his wrist. Auburn whirls and strides briskly away, blinking back the stress-tears and trying to take imperceptibly deep breaths. Scout hums consolingly at one shoulder, another ghost appears at the other. 

Zavala’s Ghost, old shell, broad tines almost plain compared to the contraptions that were in fashion these days.

“Thank you.” She murmured, before vanishing. Auburn doesn’t break stride, but breathes a bit easier.


End file.
